


Memories

by faryn_rose



Category: VIXX
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Heavy Angst, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7865278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faryn_rose/pseuds/faryn_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hongbin seems to have lost all his memories of you.</p><p>Based off of the song, "Memories" by VIXX.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories

Hongbin wants to remember you, your touch, your smile, your laugh, the way you loved him, and the way you left him with the unbearable sound of his heart tearing into two. He wants to go back to that dark time of mindless heartbreak, when he drank himself raw and forgot to sleep or do work or talk to friends or move on with his life, when he forgot to forget and the only thing he could remember was you, you, you.

He wishes he could return to that pain in the blink of an eye. It is better than this, where his tears have dried and his sleeping schedule has fallen back into line, where his friends have stopped looking at him like he is a lost, broken soul and everything seems normal like it was before it all came crashing down. The only thing that is not quite right is the dull numbness that has taken over his heart and the  _complete_  blank his mind draws whenever he thinks of you. 

Sometimes, he taps the side of his head to help himself  _remember,_ to remember the taste of your lips or the breath of your laugh, or how he felt like he was flying through the clouds even though he was falling, falling for you. But after all this time, even the memory of your face has faded from his mind. And the pain of this is worse than what you left him with. He loved you too much to forget like this, and finds himself desperately wishing for those memories again. 

When he sees you again, placing onions in your basket at the supermarket, sweet hums of music notes leaving your lips and looking as beautiful as he remembered, he doesn’t feel that sudden surge of pain and nostalgia granted with the reminder that you are no longer his.

When he catches your eye and your pretty features contort in surprise, he finds it easy to smile as if nothing in the world is wrong, and that you never broke his heart all that time ago.

“Y/n, how have you been?”

You are nothing short of taken aback, understandably so, because the man speaking to you right now does not seem like the same one you left in a mess of his own tears and begging words for you not to go. Nothing like the same man who you once looked at with pity washing over your eyes, whose tears and darkened bags underneath his lids made him look unrecognizable, whose dimpled smile faded away in the darkness of passing months and countless days of hell that were what they were because you were not there to save him.

You look at his glowing smile now, so different from the murder scene you created so long ago, and fix a smile of your own on your face that is nowhere near as genuine as his was. 

“I’ve been good, how about you?”

His smile widens and almost causes your body to flinch at the fact that you are not the cause of his tears this time.

“I’ve been great.”

He grins again, young eyes under dark fringes twinkling with life, and you wonder, for a split second if he has found someone else. The thought alone almost has your shoulders sagging in relief. If he has, it would explain why he is definitely not the same man who cried at your doorstep in the latest hours of the night, who lost weight because he looked at hunger like it never existed and like you were the only thing he craved. He loved so deeply and hurt too much that you figure learning to be in love with someone else has finally fixed him.

You find your eyes wandering to the shopping basket he holds, ignoring the fact that it is enough food for only one person, and instead fix your gaze upon a special brand of cup ramen resting against the confines of the plastic.

“Oh, you got that extra spicy chicken ramen?” You find the words spilling from your mouth before you could stop them. “We used to heat a bunch of those up together and see who could eat the most.” 

You laugh at the memory of the painful tingles of spice on the tip of your tongue, how his eyes watered and glowed when he won, and how you kissed him with all the reverence you could muster in praise for him being the ramen king.

You distantly wonder why you are bringing this up now, why you are taking this blind, foolish chance at the boy you destroyed to help make him laugh and look at the death of your relationship in a humorous, nostalgic light. But time should have dictated it so; it has been far too long for heartbreak to carry over until now, and, surely, he must have gotten over you.

His reaction, however, is nothing like what you’re expecting.

Confusion flickers over his eyes–true, genuine confusion–coupled with furrowing eyebrows as he looks down at the cup. Nothing happens, there is no flash of recognition, no hint of nostalgia washing over his gaze when he looks up at you.

“Oh, we did? Sorry, I don’t remember.”

And you have to search for any signs of lying, because you simply can’t believe he doesn’t remember, but you only find yourself looking at a man who is definitely not the same, with distant, blank eyes of a person you truly don’t know staring back at you, truthful and unrecognizable.

“Um, I have to get going now. I’ll see you around, Y/n!”

You have to stop yourself from calling out for him when he turns away to ask him if he really is alright, because the words that have just left his lips settle uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. 

But you don’t, because he seems better now, happier even, despite the stranger that has taken over him to barely register recognition when he laid his eyes upon you. 

You don’t because you decide that, maybe, it is easier to forget.


End file.
